


Distracting

by truth_renowned



Series: K-I-S-S-I-N-G [3]
Category: Agent Carter (TV)
Genre: F/M, Fluff, Humor, ish
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-02-15
Updated: 2017-02-15
Packaged: 2018-09-24 16:40:31
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,437
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9770756
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/truth_renowned/pseuds/truth_renowned
Summary: "Distracting Kiss - When you are competing, maybe playing video games or something so you press kisses anywhere available; arms, nose, knees, ears, knuckles, temple, just anywhere to distract them." (From fanficspromptsandfun's Types of Kisses Prompts on tumblr)





	

**Author's Note:**

> fanficspromptsandfun's Types of Kisses Prompts post can be found at http://fanficspromptsandfun.tumblr.com/post/153391610561/types-of-kisses-prompts

Daniel was in Hell. Or, at least, how he imagined Hell, which was drowning in a sea of paperwork in a conference room. Which was exactly where he was, at work, surrounded by more paper than a paper mill scattered on the large table. And the pisser was, it wasn't even all his paperwork.

After Jack had been shot, Daniel and Peggy split the workload, him taking on the paperwork end and her handling field operations. Exactly four weeks after that fateful day, Jack announced he couldn't possibly recover in a city that didn't have a decent deli, and he called tacos ‘a travesty to the culinary world’. So back to New York he went, taking Peggy with him for two weeks. Unfortunately, he didn't take his paperwork with him, including the dreaded yearly budget proposal. Doing the L.A. budget was bad enough, but having to do it for two offices was the reason Daniel was in the aforementioned Hell.

He’d been at it for hours, the numbers long since blurring together, when he heard a clicking on the tiled floor outside the room. He knew that clicking. He looked up in time to see Peggy in the doorway. 

He smiled. “You’re back.”

“You're astute.” She walked into the room. “Budget?”

“Another couple of hours or so and I'll be done.” He sighed and leaned forward, his forehead hitting the table.

“You poor thing,” she said, walking up behind his chair.

He moaned as her fingers dug into his shoulders. He hadn’t realized how much his muscles hurt. Forget these fucking numbers, he thought. This is what he wanted, her hands kneading his flesh. And doing other things to his flesh. 

As if in a trance, he lifted his head and shrugged her hands away.

“I appreciate the massage but I need to finish this,” he said. “Can I get an IOU?”

She sat next to him. “Absolutely.”

He smiled, picking up his pencil and scribbling on the paper in front of him. Within seconds, he was in the zone again, the numbers dancing in his head, so much so that he didn’t notice her leaning toward him. Suddenly, he felt her lips on his temple. He smiled again but didn’t look up. Then he felt a kiss on his cheek.

“Peggy...?”

She hummed a response against his skin, and he felt her tongue tracing a path down his jaw.

He bit back a gasp. “Peggy, you're being a distraction.”

“Thank you.” She placed a light kiss on his neck.

“It wasn’t a compliment.”

She kissed his jaw. “You sure about that?”

His hands framed her face and he moved his mouth over hers. Two can play this game, he thought as he thrust his tongue in her mouth. She moaned her approval as she leaned in, changing the angle to deepen the kiss. 

Kissing Peggy Carter was his favorite hobby. It had been since that day six weeks ago, when she kissed him in his office. It was a hobby he hadn't been able to partake in with her out of town. It was a hobby he wanted to partake in right now but he couldn't.

He abruptly pulled back. “I need to finish this tonight so Rose can type it up and get it in the mail first thing. The brass is breathing down my neck.”

He shuddered as he felt a puff of breath just above his collarbone. 

“So am I,” she mumbled against his skin.

He pulled away, looking at her until she met his gaze. “What has gotten into you, Peg?”

“I've missed you,” she whispered. “I want you.”

Those last three words went straight to his crotch.

“I want you, too. More than you know, but I have to get this done.”

“Then write faster.”

He sighed. “I can't even feel my fingers anymore.”

“I can help you with that,” she said seductively. 

She took his hand and moved it toward her mouth, but he yanked his hand away. She was in rare form tonight. He knew she was insatiable but this was extreme, even for her. He must have had an odd look on his face because she tilted her head and frowned.

“What?”

“I've never seen you like this,” he replied.

“What? Randy?”

He coughed out a laugh. “That's one way of putting it.”

“Can't help it. You’ve flipped a switch in me that I don't want to turn off ever again.”

He felt himself stirring and he wanted nothing more than to sweep the papers off the table and take her on the cold, wood surface. And that thought just made him stir even more. 

“I see your switch is flipped as well,” she said slyly as her gaze traveled from his lap to his eyes.

“There will be no switch-flipping until this paperwork is done.” He sounded adamant but was anything but. “Just give me a few hours and then I’m all yours.”

She harrumphed and got up from her chair. Where was she going? Did he make her mad? He shook his head and stared again at the paper in front of him. Pencil in hand, he scribbled more numbers until he heard squeaking wheels mixed with heel clicks echoing in the bullpen. Peggy suddenly appeared in the doorway with a cart and the machine he hated the most in the office: the Dictaphone.

“You know I can’t stand that thing,” he said, pouting. “More like, it can’t stand me.”

She put a hand on her hip. “Daniel, it's an inanimate object. It's not capable of hate.”

“Yes, it is. It never works for me.”

She walked up behind him and her lips grazed his ear. “The sooner you get this done, the sooner we can leave.”

He sighed, resigned to battling with that monstrosity because he wanted nothing more than to 1) be done with this fucking paperwork, and 2) be buried deep inside the beautiful woman standing next to him. And not necessarily in that order.

She handed him the Dictaphone mouthpiece. “Just push that button and talk.”

He closed his eyes, squaring himself for the inevitable embarrassment of not being able to work the damn thing, and said, “Testing, testing.”

She clicked a few buttons on the machine’s base, and his tinny words filled the silence: “Testing, testing.”

“See?”

“It’s only behaving because you’re here,” he responded.

She rolled her eyes and sat down next to him.

“Oh no.” He shooed her away with his hand. “You can’t sit there. I don’t trust you to keep your lips to yourself.”

“I’ll behave, I promise,” she said with an angelic smile.

He eyed her suspiciously but let her stay. She was true to her word, helping him organize the pages so he could speak the numbers into the Dictaphone. Every few minutes, he had her play back what he said to make sure the machine really caught it. In less than an hour, he was done.

He leaned back in his chair, hands locked behind his head. “Thank you for your help.”

“Anytime,” she said as she stood up and stretched. 

He reached out a hand to her and she took it, yelping in surprise as he roughly pulled her to him. She landed squarely on his lap and he winced, sighing in relief when she shifted her weight to his good leg.

“You wanted my attention,” he said, his face inches from hers. “You have it now.”

“About damn time.”

She closed the minute distance between them, sealing her mouth to his. He moaned as he felt her tongue slip between his lips. He’d missed this. He’d missed her. He knew exactly what she was talking about, some switch flipping on inside of him that was off for far too long. She did that to him. She did so much to him, and she probably felt exactly what she was doing to him, as her hip was sitting against his crotch.

She pulled back from the kiss, then got up from his lap and gathered the papers. “We’ll drop this off at Rose’s desk and tell her where the Dictaphone is. Then we'll pick up where we left off at home.”

He grinned. By ‘home,’ she meant his home, which was now their home for all intents and purposes.

“I’ll remember this, Peggy,” he said as they left the room, his hand at the small of her back. “Next time you have a report to write, watch out.”

“I look forward to it.” She looked at him over her shoulder. “Now let’s go home and take care of that switch of yours.”


End file.
